Reaching Out to Amy
by JadedFire
Summary: Amy Wimple was a great Christian. Until her thoughts began to wander from God and onto Man. AN: Summary isn't too great, but please read the story. Read and rate, por favor.
1. Chapter One

A/N: This is my second Bible fanfic. I really hope you enjoy it. I enjoyed writing this one chapter more than _the Hunt for Sauron_ fanfic. 

_And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them, I withheld not my heart from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my labour: and this was my portion of all my labour. _

Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought and on the labour that I had laboured to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun. _Ecclesiastes 2: 10-11_

**Chapter One: Selfishness**

"Amy!" Liza called out while her friend was walking down the block to her house. School had been just out and summer vacation was beginning. The warm air, and the sweet smell of God's creation confirmed this. 

"Yes?" Amy Wimple asked, turning around to face her friend. She and Liza Winters had been friends since middle school, and it would be their senior year the next semester of high school. Amy was shy and nervous, and Liza was outgoing and sociable. Liza had a big brother in her family, while Amy had no one. She was an only child. 

"Jason Smith asked me out for tonight!" Liza looked as though she had just won a million dollars. In her case, perhaps she had. Or thought she had, rather. Amy felt a wee bit envious, but asked her heavenly Father to take that emotion away, and a peace filled her heart concerning it. Yes, she had always wanted someone to ask her out, but the time was not right. 

"That's great!" Amy said truthfully. 

"Yeah. Jason's the most popular, cutest, and sweetest boy at school!" said Liza, and she hugged her schoolbooks tightly to her chest as though she was hugging Jason. Once again, Amy had to take her envy up to the Lord. Ever since her long crush on Clyde Brownson, she had been hoping and praying that a man would come her way. 

_ Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart._ The Scripture verse came into her head and she held back an impatient sigh. Hadn't that been what she was doing? Delighting herself in the Lord? 

_ Lord, thank You for saving my soul from hell. I love You so much and I am willing to serve You,_ she prayed. 

"You all right?" Liza asked, breaking the sudden almost tranquility between Amy and her Savior. 

"Yes, I'm fine." 

Once Amy returned home, she sat in her room for awhile and began to sulk in that she didn't have any boyfriends, no male friends, and a low social life. In fact, it was a near _dead_ social life. Her friendship with Liza was the only social life she had. She didn't talk to hardly anyone. Not even her parents. She was quiet and sensitive. She never went beyond the little social barriers Satan had set up for her, and so she continued to dwell in her own little world. Thankfully though, she had asked Jesus Christ to be her Savior when she was fifteen. So her social life included Him as well. It wasn't _dead_ after all. 

Early in the morning each day, she would open up her King James Bible and read a chapter out of it. Sometimes she would read two chapters if she had the time. And she usually did her heavy duty praying at night. Lately though, she had been slacking in reading the Bible and praying. Little did she know that it was her selfish desires for a husband that was causing the small gulf in communication between her and her heavenly Father. She was too busy to think of Him. Or even praise Him for the daily little miracles. Most of her prayers of late consisted of _When am I getting a man, Lord? Susy Blakers is getting married and she's a year younger! When will it by_ my _time?_…and so forth and so on. 

Her parents were beginning to worry, and being saved believers in Christ, they prayed continually for their daughter. She was becoming lazy and tended to get grouchy easily. It was a sign that her relationship with God wasn't what it should be. She hardly ever smiled and griped most of the time. But at church and near Liza, she would put on her "happy-face" and pretend that nothing was going on between her and God and say, "I'm all right!" or "I'm fine!" 

Her view on God was ever changing. He became more and more distant to her, and sometimes she felt as though He was mean and cruel and heartless. Which He wasn't. Anyway, she felt as though her life was falling apart—because of Him in that He wouldn't give _her_ someone to cuddle up with at nights (which she would never admit to anyone). Of course, if she would admit that she was being selfish and ask God's forgiveness, maybe her life would come back together again. 

But, that night, something happened while she said her two minute long gripe prayer. 


	2. Chapter Two

To Psalm 57: Thank you so much for your review! :-) Yes, I hate cliffies, too, and I apologize that I have made you wait for awhile for the second chapter. Hope you like it! :-)

**Chapter Two:** **Dreams and Visions**

_Lord, please send me a man. I know You said that You would bless me. But so far I haven't seen any blessings other than that I'm going to heaven— _

Thunder boomed in the distance and she heard howling of wind against the small house. Rain fell down in relentless torrents upon the roof. She shivered, not being one to like storms. 

_Lord, please—_

A flash of lightning crackled and for a split-second the room was lit up. 

She stopped praying, having said a quick, _Amen,_ which served as the off switch for some invisible comm-unit. 

But prayer is _not _an invisible and convenient comm-unit, to be switched on whenever Amy so pleased. The wind howled, and lightining flashed, the thunder boomed, and she could hear the _ping _of large rain droplets pouring onto the rooftop. And the world blew away, thundered away, and floated away… 

At first, she thought God's wrath was upon her and maybe she ought to have been a little bit more servanthearted. But that would mean she would have to wait _forever_ for a man, and she didn't _feel_ like waiting that long. 

She took in her dark surroundings and noticed that she was standing in the middle of a riot. In the middle of a desert city. The people she saw wore Biblical clothes and the only mode of transportation were mules or camels. Sometimes, though rarely, she saw a horse. 

She saw a man carrying the crossbeam for his cross over his shoulders down the dirt street. A plaited crown of thorns was pressed into his head and skull; red blood trickled down in rivulets. He looked barely human, having been beaten by Roman soldiers and flogged to a bloody pulp. She recognized this as Jesus, and he didn't look like he always did in old Rennassiance paintings. They had left out the blood, and being reverent, they had kept the loincloth. 

Two men carrying crossbeams came behind her Savior. But they weren't nearly as beaten as Him whom she had selfishly pushed aside for her selfish dreams. They were thieves and robbers. If anyone here deserved to be beaten until they were near inhuman in shape, it was them. But Jesus Christ had taken the beating, the flogging, the jeers, the mocking—He had taken it in _her _place. 

Her vision became blurry and tears pooled her eyes as the fool weight of His great love fell on her. 

She watched as He was cruelly nailed to a cross. The cross, as it turned out, wasn't made out of smooth wood. The cross which the Romans prepared for prisoners was made of the roughest type wood, the type where splinters could get into bleeding wounds and infect the body. 

_But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us._ The verse in Romans leaped to her heart at that moment, and she understood what it meant. He loved her so deeply, so intensely, that He would lay down His life for her, even when she was unlovable. And though she knew that she had been saved before, a special bond she felt to her Savior than she had ever felt before. 

To her dismay she was pulled back into her own world and she opened her eyes. Cheerful sunlight greeted her from the familiar windows of her bedroom. It was morning, and she was laying curled up on her bed. 

A horrible tast was in her mouth and her eyes were crusty, and she felt immensely tired. Had she dreamed the whole thing, or had she experienced a vision? Perhaps it was but a dream… 

**A/N: I cried a little myself when I wrote that. I think I need to be writing more of these type stories and less of the LotR/SW stuff. Because that stuff won't matter a hill of beans when I meet Jesus Christ, my personal Savior.**


End file.
